


An Infinity of the Other

by mikripetra



Series: star cross'd lovers [1]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: BAMF Rose Tyler, Canon Rewrite, Episode: s07e08 The Rings of Akhaten, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, Introspection, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining, Reunion, River Song Rewrite, Secret Identity, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, The Doctor (Doctor Who) Needs a Hug, The Doctor/Rose Tyler Reunion, Time Travel, in a very general doctor who-esque way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:35:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28081023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikripetra/pseuds/mikripetra
Summary: After losing Amy and Rory, the Doctor finds himself on an adventure in the rings of Akhaten, just in time for the festival of offerings. He's alone, this time around, and has sworn off companions for the future. He's not expecting to run into Rose Tyler, haggling over the price of a few repair parts.The smart thing to do would be to turn around and walk away- this is Rose from the past, and he should let her live her life. But before he knows it, the Doctor's given her a fake name and offered to spend the day with her, trying to make every second last.
Relationships: Eleventh Doctor/Rose Tyler
Series: star cross'd lovers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057187
Comments: 87
Kudos: 203





	1. Chapter 1

“You’re a punk!” Rose had said, laughing, in another world, a long time ago. “That’s what you are. A big old punk.”

When he’d first regenerated, the TARDIS desktop had been so bright. She’d always tried to match how he looked. The Doctor was soft, now, approachable; the quirky kind of twenty-something-year-old that kids loved and their mothers adored. No threat to anyone. Likewise, the TARDIS could’ve been confused with the most inviting kind of children’s playground: bright, expansive yellows and oranges, glass arches and windows. She’d become an adventure palace, a bouncy house, a cottage made of candy.

But after losing Amy and Rory to a place they couldn’t follow, after falling into a deep, depressed isolation high in the clouds above Victorian London, the Doctor and the TARDIS had changed together, once again. He’d switched out his bright suit for a darker one, deep purple, to match the TARDIS’s solemn blues and dimmed lights.

He’d always tried to move on. But this wasn’t like all the other times. He’d sworn off companions, for good this time. He couldn’t do it anymore. The Doctor wouldn’t let anyone else die for him, not ever again.

But without someone else to show the secrets of the universe, the Doctor and his ship hadn’t been able to shake off the loss. It was like they were wearing black armbands, mourning not just the Ponds, but a life they could no longer lead.

Today, he hadn’t even asked the TARDIS to turn on music. That was the thing- she just knew.

The Doctor sat, suspended in a swing seat, underneath the TARDIS console. He had his coke bottle goggles on, jacket discarded in a corner, a welding torch in hand. His bow tie and his suspenders dug into his skin, slightly, but it was almost reassuring. A reminder that he was here, alive, still going.

“I wish I was special,” he sang along, “but I’m a creep, I’m a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here…”

He yanked a wrench out of his belt and banged it against the bottom of his shoe, matching the beat.

“Darling,” he calls to the TARDIS, “make a note that I need to grab you a new axiomator. This one’s been rusted to bits.”

The TARDIS’s cloister bell rang out with a sour note, as if to say, _And who’s fault is that?_

The Doctor swung over to the nearest wall, stroking it in apology. “I know, I’ve been neglecting you. You deserve a new one, sexy, you’ve just got to remind me to go out and get it.”

The TARDIS hummed in response, pleased.

Radiohead blared on. The Doctor echoed it, terribly off-key.

“Run, run, run, run, run…”

Right on cue, the bit of the console above the Doctor’s head exploded in a shower of bright-white sparks.

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed, squinting above to get a glimpse of what had happened. “We were doing so well!”

The Doctor pushed his goggles up his forehead impatiently, bounding up the stairs.

“Sexy,” he began, warning colouring his tone, “if you’ve blown the photon accelerator coils again just to get me to refurbish them for the second time this week, I’ll have to-”

The screen closest to the Doctor was lit up, flashing red. A glittering arrow flashed on and off, pointing at the nearest lever.

The Doctor glanced at the ceiling, bemused. “What are you doing?”

The TARDIS had already set up the coordinates for their next journey. He sifted through the swirling rings and circles she’d set for him to read, frowning.

“Tiaanamat?” he muttered. “Why d’you want to go back to the rings of Akhaten, old girl? We haven’t been there in ages.”

The rest of the screens lit up, all showing arrows of different sizes, all of them pointing at the same lever.

The Doctor laughed. “Alright, alright. You don’t have to tell me twice.”

He skidded across the console, pulled the lever, and held on tight as the TARDIS took him off into the unknown.

* * *

Seven worlds orbiting the same star. All of them sharing a belief that life in the universe originated here, on that planet.

The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS and basked in the light, for just a moment. The atmosphere was singing with the memory of thousands of years of hopes and prayers, all directed at this one point. The Doctor could nearly taste the hope and camaraderie in the air.

As he headed inland, he started to hear the sounds of life. Thousands of people chattering and bartering and selling in the massive marketplace. You could find nearly anything at these bazaars; they only happened every thousand years, after all.

The Doctor smiled to himself. Here he was, halfway across the universe from Earth, and the people were all the same. Whether they called it Pancake Tuesday or the bicentennial gladiatorial race or the festival of offerings, people loved to come together and celebrate.

It made sense that the TARDIS had pushed him to come here. He’d almost definitely be able to find her a new axiomator, and a few other spare parts and treats that were sure to lift her spirits.

The Doctor caught sight of a glowing blue basket a few yards ahead, and bounded forward.

“Ooo!” He whipped out his sonic screwdriver and scanned the objects.

“Exotic fruit!” he exclaimed. “Right. Non-toxic, non-hallucinogenic, high in free radicals and low in other stuff, I shouldn’t wonder. You want to-“

The Doctor cut himself off.

No one was listening.

He should really get a move on.

The Doctor kept walking, picking up lots of the interesting objects he came across, and just listened.

The Doctor picked up a strange looking instrument, a red cylinder with beads strung on either side. He shook it, a little, and smiled at the noise.

“No can do,” one of the merchants was saying, voice grumbling and deep. “I don’t know where you come from, but the currency in this part of the galaxy is psychometry only. Bits of paper and metal aren’t valuables, sweetheart. I can only accept objects with a psychic imprint on them, and that’s final.”

The Doctor heard the customer stamp their foot in frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding me! What kind of system is that, eh? How do I know you’re not just swindling me into overpaying for a few bits of outdated tech?”

The instrument fell from the Doctor’s lifeless fingers.

He turned, very slowly. He caught a glimpse of that blue leather jacket and almost fell to the floor, right there in the middle of the market.

It was Rose, alright. But not his Rose. She was wearing that jacket, which meant this was Rose from years ago, the one that jumped between dimensions and all across the universe trying to find him. This was Rose before the Daleks, before the biological metacrisis, before the Doctor had taken her back home and left her there, like the coward he was.

This was Rose before she reunited with the Doctor, _her_ Doctor, still wearing pinstripes and travelling with Donna Noble. She had all that to come.

The other dimension’s Torchwood tech had probably just locked onto the TARDIS’s energy signature, but hadn’t kept the timelines in mind. She had found him, but it wasn’t the right version.

The responsible thing to do would be to turn right back around, keep walking, get in the TARDIS and leave. But the Doctor’s feet refused to move.

“Excuse me,” he said, inching toward Rose. “Anything I could help you with?”

Rose glanced at him for a split second, her eyes sliding right off his face. “S’fine, thanks. I’ve got it.”

She didn’t recognize him. Of course she didn’t. Why would she?

“Er,” the Doctor cleared his throat, ducking his head, fidgeting in place. “If you’ve got any personal tokens that you wouldn’t mind parting with, even if they seem insignificant to you, they might be a fair exchange for whatever you’re trying to buy.”

Rose looked between the Doctor and the merchant, conflicted.

“He’s not putting me on, then?” Rose asked. “You really do need to pay with something that matters to you?”

The Doctor grimaced. “Unfortunately.”

Rose narrowed her eyebrows before stiffening, seeming to come to a decision.

“Won’t matter once I find him, will it,” she murmured, quiet enough that the Doctor was sure he wasn’t meant to overhear.

She reached inside her shirt and grabbed a long chain, pulling it over her head.

“Right,” she said, holding it out to the merchant, “will this do?”

The merchant plucked the necklace from her hand, holding it out to study it. The Doctor barely managed to muffle his exclamation of shock.

It was her TARDIS key. She’d kept it, this entire time, around her neck.

The merchant made an appreciative noise. “This is extremely powerful. Such joy and wonder. Vestiges of adventure, mixed with strands of despair and longing for-”

“Does it work or not?” Rose interrupted.

The merchant frowned, but nodded.

“You can’t give that away!” the Doctor cried. “What are you even trying to buy? It’s absolutely not worth the price of your- of that key!”

Rose cocked an eyebrow in his direction. “Listen, mate, I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m a big girl. I can make my own decisions. Could you kindly bugger off and let me finish my business here?”

The merchant pocketed that precious TARDIS key without another word, reaching under the counter to pull out-

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” exclaimed the Doctor. “A set of inertial dampers? Those are worthless!”

“Whose merchandise you calling worthless?” asked the merchant.

“Listen,” the Doctor said to Rose, “whatever you need those for, I can do it instead. You don’t need to buy from him. What’re you trying to fix? I’m pretty skilled, I could do it in a cinch without any new parts.”

“Really?” asked Rose dryly. “You’re telling me you can repair the internal mechanisms of a dimension cannon meant to break through the walls of the universe without any help?”

“Yes.”

Rose narrowed her gaze, searching his face for deception.

“Fine,” she said eventually. “Follow me.”

She got her TARDIS key back from the merchant and stormed off in the other direction. The Doctor nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to follow her.

“What’s your name, anyway?” she asked, as they made their way through the winding marketplace.

“I’m-“ the Doctor swallowed nervously. “Rory. Rory Pond.“

Rose grinned, slowly, her teeth bright against the dull browns and greys of the marketplace around them. “Where’re you from, with a name like that? Thought for sure you were going to say something like…oh, I don’t know-“

“Raxacoricofallapatorious?” the Doctor blurted out.

Rose’s smile brightened. “Yeah. Something like that.”

The Doctor stood, frozen, just looking at her. She had an air of sadness about her, but she was as beautiful as ever. His pink and yellow human. What would it be like to hold her in his arms, in this new body?

“Er-“ Rose reached into the messenger bag she had tossed over one shoulder, pulling out an unfamiliar device with a bright orange button. That was strange- back during the Dalek invasion, he remembered their dimension-hoppers being much smaller, and yellow. This must’ve been some kind of older, prototype version.

“I was trying to get to planet Earth, around 2010, their time? I ended up here for some reason, and the damn thing shorted out before I could contact home base to get the coordinates recalibrated.” 

The Doctor’s hand twitched toward his breast pocket, ready to pull out his sonic screwdriver, but he stopped at the last second. That would be a dead giveaway, wouldn’t it?

“Let me see.” He plucked the device from her hands, studying it with just his eyes. It all seemed to be in order, to be honest. But hadn’t Jackie once said something about a…

“Ah, yes,” the Doctor improvised. “You don’t need any repairs here. Certainly not any second-rate inertial dampers. There’s a timer on this, isn’t there? It should be a few hours, at least, before it’s ready to go again. I can see how you might think it's burned out, but everything seems shipshape, spick and span…”

The Doctor snapped his fingers, grinning at Rose. “Oh, hunky-dory! There’s another one. That’s what this is. Hunky-dory.”

Rose’s smile had slipped off her face entirely.

“What’s wrong?” the Doctor asked, trying to exaggerate his offense by tilting his entire upper body backwards.

Rose shook herself visibly. “Nothing. Sorry, Rory, you just- you just reminded me of someone.”

The Doctor handed the device back to her, reflexively straightening his bow tie. “Someone good, I hope.”

Rose’s expression twisted into something a lot more bittersweet, her gaze falling to focus on a point in the distance.

“Yeah. The best.”

 _Look at me,_ the Doctor felt like screaming. _It’s me! I’m right here!_

“You know,” the Doctor began, “it’s a pretty big day, here. They’re about to have a whole festival. I hear they’ve got a smashing singer. Would you want to, I don’t know, go have a listen?”

Rose shifted away from him. “Sorry, mate, I don’t know what you thought this was, but I’m not looking to-”

“No, no no no!” the Doctor hurried to exclaim, waving his hands in front of him for emphasis. “Me neither! Just more fun to do things with a friend, that’s all. I’ve got nothing on for the day, you’ve got some time to kill. Just thought it might be nice. No pressure.”

The corners of Rose’s lips twitched. “We’re friends, then?”

“Well,” the Doctor amended, “friends sounds better than ‘blonde stranger I happened to run into at the bazaar and saved from getting swindled,’ now doesn’t it?”

Without thinking, the Doctor held out his hand. Without hesitation, Rose took it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After getting lots of comments on "And That Has Made All the Difference" requesting the story of Eleven and Rose's reunion, here it is. Updates coming soon!
> 
> What did you think? Comments are literally all my motivation to keep writing, I really appreciate and love them all <3


	2. Chapter 2

**_Some time ago…_ **

“Doctor, help!”

The Doctor crawled across the marble floor, scrabbling at the steps leading to the TARDIS with his fingers, his legs useless. His whole body was on fire.

“Look at you,” said River, from behind him. Her voice was coolly interested, the way a scientist might analyze a dissected specimen, still alive, still screaming. “You still care.”

She was so young. Every time he’d seen her before now, she’d been able to maintain at least a veneer of compassion. She hadn’t learned to do that, yet. Hadn’t let herself become corrupted with emotions.

“Doctor, help us!” cried Amy, her voice echoing faintly through the Tesselecta. “Doctor, help us, please help us!”

The Doctor gritted his teeth and tried to pull himself forward. He had about thirty seconds until his body gave out entirely.

“It’s impressive, I’ll give you that,” remarked River.

He’d lost feeling in his fingers, now.

“River,” he choked out, hating how high and needy it sounded. “Please.”

River scoffed. “Again? Who is this River?”

The Doctor shut his eyes, half from the pain and half from wanting to wring her neck.

“She’s got to be a woman. Am I right?”

“Help me,” murmured the Doctor. “Save Amy and Rory. Help me.”

“Tell me about her,” River snapped. When the Doctor just lay there, wriggling like a fish out of water, she prompted him again. “Go on.”

The Doctor’s frustration ripped apart into a sound, more an animalistic growl of pain and frustration than any word.

“Just help me,” he begged, voice little more than a whisper, now.

She started toward him, tentative. River reached a hand toward his forehead, and he grabbed it, weakly, his hand barely able to close around hers. He pressed it to the side of his face with all his remaining strength and concentrated.

 _You’re the child of the TARDIS,_ he said into her mind, rapidly losing consciousness. _She’ll let you in. She’ll show you how. Please, go inside,_ save _them. Please._

She let go, stepped over his prone body, and his vision began to fade.

He lay there, a fresh wave of agony causing him to twitch and groan every few seconds, thinking.

There was only one way for him to survive this. It would make sense that River had several remaining regenerations left to go. The Doctor could get her to fork them over. He knew how to manipulate people into doing almost anything. He didn’t like doing it. It wouldn’t be pretty.

He told her he loved her, with his dying breath, and almost regretted it.

But she came through, saved his life, and he couldn’t bring himself to pity her.

* * *

“We are ground zero of an explosion that will engulf all reality,” the Doctor snapped at River Song, standing far above a world that was crumbling into ash. “Billions on billions will suffer and die.”

River’s eyes shone, and she jutted her chin upwards, ever the petulant child. “I’ll suffer if I have to kill you.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “More than every living thing in the universe?”

 _“Yes,”_ she answered, immediately, her bosom rising and falling with emotion. Purposefully, of course. River Song did nothing by accident.

* * *

He whispered his name in River’s ear. Really. It burned his throat as he choked out the word. But he had no choice. This is how it always went. This is how it had to go.

Good thing River Song, for all her bloodred smirks and half-lidded glances, had no idea what she was talking about. For all the Trenzalorian influence in her upbringing, she was still a human. And humans could be fooled.

Humans didn’t know what it means to be married. Not really. So he could fake it. She’d never know any better, and everything would go on as it always had.

They stood there on top of a pyramid, hands tightly gripping that unraveled bowtie, Amy and Rory staring at them, wide-eyed and fearful. River was looking at him with naked adoration in her eyes, but all the affection in the world couldn’t outweigh that sliver of cruelty in her heart that she never had managed to shake off.

The Doctor was scared of very little. But River…she had the capability to destroy everything. This problem with the timelines aside, left alone, he and River would undoubtedly tear each other to vicious shreds, reveling in each wound and blow. River was far too much like him; if they stayed together for too long, it would mean the death of everything fragile and gentle in this world.

Four thousand and twenty-two people saved. Countless others they managed to rescue, together, on their irreparably tangled journey through time and space. He did this for them, and for no other reason.

Well. He glanced, sidelong, at Amy and Rory. He did it for them, too.

* * *

The Doctor shook hands with the captain of the Tesselecta, hopped off the burning boat, and found his way to shore.

They all thought he was dead now. River, Amy and Rory. His job was done.

His shoulders curled in on themselves, the traitors, at the thought of never seeing Amy and Rory again. But the Doctor took a breath and started walking. He had a universe to explore. People to save.

And perhaps, along the way, he might find a reason to keep going.

* * *

**_Now_ **

On Akhaten, Rose glanced around, brow creasing in worry. “She alright? That little girl. She looks scared out of her mind.”

The two of them had squeezed into the lower seats in the gigantic, semicircular amphitheater, with a perfect view of the small child clothed in red garments who was getting ready to sing.

“They’re singing to the mummy in the temple,” murmured the Doctor. “They call it the old god. Sometimes Grandfather.”

The crowd around them slowly began to chime in. None of them were particularly good singers. But that wasn’t the point, was it? It was the way it made you feel. The slowly rising energy, the joy in the notes and that intangible, wonderful feeling of not being alone.

“It’s called the Long Song,” the Doctor continued. “A lullaby without end to feed the old god. Keep him asleep. It’s been going on for millions of years, chorister handing over to chorister, generation after generation after generation.”

All around them, members of the crowd pulled out small objects, holding them out, palm up.

“Those are offerings," the Doctor explained. "Gifts of value. Mementoes to feed the old god.”

 _Lay down,_ sang the crowd. _Lay down, down._

The Doctor felt a smile beginning to grow on his face.

Of course, that was when it all went wrong.

The singing stopped. The little girl turned, eyes huge and frightened, to the crowd. No one moved to help when she was lifted by an orange beam of energy and dragged forwards, toward the temple of the god.

The little girl's screams reverberated through the amphitheater. No one besides the Doctor and Rose seemed shocked.

“Is somebody going to do something?” Rose exclaimed, shooting to her feet. “Hey, is somebody going to help her?”

Rose stepped out of the seats, scanning the silent audience. “What’s wrong with you people? She’s just a little girl, she’s terrified!”

A few of the people near them began to snarl.

The Doctor felt like kicking himself. Ceremony to placate a deity, little girl at the forefront? This was a textbook blood sacrifice. He should’ve stepped in sooner.

Next to him, Rose reached into her bag and pulled out a gun larger than her forearm.

“What’re you doing with a gun?” the Doctor hissed.

Rose kept her eyes on the hostile crowd. “What, Rory, you want me to let them tear me to pieces?”

“No, just-“ the Doctor let out a growl of frustration. He took out his sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the gun, disarming it instantly.

“No guns,” the Doctor snapped. “Not with me.”

Rose’s eyebrows narrowed, eyeing the sonic. “What’s that?”

The Doctor mentally ran through a list of every curse he knew. It was quite a long list, if you counted synonyms in different languages.

“Spanner,” he choked out.

Rose looked even more suspicious. “Doesn’t sound like a spanner. Sounds like-“

The Doctor grabbed Rose’s free hand and bolted back toward the bazaar. Rose stumbled over her feet, protesting the whole way.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“Oh, sorry!” exclaimed the Doctor. “You wanted to get slowly dismembered for disrespecting the god of the galaxy, did you?”

“Rory, wait!” Rose tore her hand out of the Doctor’s and stood, facing him, breathing heavily.

She brushed her hair out of her face, gun still in her right hand. “We’ve got to go back. I know this isn’t what you signed up for, but I need to save that girl. Do you want to help me do it or not?”

The Doctor’s hearts twisted in his chest. Rose Tyler, defender of the universe. She thought she was alone, right now, and she still wasn’t stopping.

“Yeah,” the Doctor managed. “And if we’re going to catch up to her in time, we should be getting a moped.”

Rose had clearly been gearing herself up for more of a fight. She blinked, astonished, and nodded.

“Come on!”

The Doctor skidded to a stop at the moped station, conversing quickly with the seller. He groaned in frustration.

“What is it?”

“I forgot,” bemoaned the Doctor. “No credits accepted here. Only-“

“Things that matter to you,” finished Rose. She squared her shoulders, jaw set. “It’s fine. I’ll give up my key, it’s more important that we-“

“No,” the Doctor cut in. “You shouldn’t get rid of that. Not ever, you hear me? Not for anything or anyone.”

Rose stared at him, confused.

The Doctor nodded. “Right.”

He rummaged in his breast pocket, pulling out the one thing he’d held onto, the one thing that meant anything to him anymore.

“Here,” he said, handing over Amy’s reading glasses. “This should do.”

The merchant growled in appreciation.

The Doctor chuckled. “Yeah. Figured you’d say that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think of the story so far? I'm going to be running through the entire rings of akhaten episode, but I have all these river snippets set in this universe that I really wanted to work in somehow- thus, this chapter was born! Your comments and kudos give me life, thanks for reading! <3


	3. Chapter 3

**_The past, again_ **

The Doctor didn’t last, not long. He’d always been weak.

He ended up at Amy and Rory’s door, the exact place he vowed never to return to again. He’d been trying save them, from him.

But Amy opened the door with a water pistol in hand and a fierce expression on her face. She hugged him, tightly, laughing into his ear.

“There’s a place set for you,” said Rory, looking more confident than the Doctor had ever seen him, finally comfortable in his own skin.

The Doctor blinked, confused. “But you didn’t know I was coming. Why would you set me a place?”

Amy rolled her eyes. “Oh, because we always do. It’s Christmas, you moron.”

Rory smiled at him, genuine, any hints of jealousy worn away by love and by time. “Come on.”

The Doctor stood there for a moment, frozen. He touched a hand to his face, feeling the tears that ran down his cheeks entirely against his will.

 _“Crying when you’re happy,”_ he’d said earlier. _“Good for you. That’s so human.”_

Amy and Rory were chattering inside the house, the sound of cutlery and chairs bouncing off the walls.

Could the Doctor, after a thousand years of wandering, be turning into something human?

More tears sprang to his eyes. He wiped them away, hastily trying to compose himself, and stepped into the house of his friends.

* * *

“You’re thinking of stopping, aren’t you?” the Doctor asked, the words thick in his throat. “You and Rory.”

“No!” Amy hurried to say. The Doctor turned to her with a flat, level stare. She deflated, looking somewhat ashamed. “I mean, we haven’t made a decision.”

“But you’re considering it.”

Amy sighed, sitting next to the Doctor on the dimly lit ledge, staring out at the skyline in front of them.

This was important. The Doctor couldn’t make it all better by babbling about something or other at ninety miles an hour, not this time. Amy was all grown up.

“Maybe,” she conceded. “I don’t know. _We_ don’t know.”

The Doctor lifted an eyebrow, incredulous. She pursed her lips.

“Well, our lives have changed so much. But there was a time, there were years when I couldn’t live without you. When just the whole ‘everyday’ thing would drive me crazy. But since you dropped us back here, since you gave us this house, you know, we’ve built a _life._ ”

The Doctor should’ve been used to this by now.

_The one adventure I can never have._

He’d even tried it, for a bit. Living with the Ponds. He just wasn’t built for it. If he wasn’t moving as fast as possible, seeing new things and saving new people, day in and day out…what was even the point of it all?

“I don’t know if I can have both,” Amy continued.

“Why?” asked the Doctor, like a child.

To her credit, Amy actually considered the question before answering. “Because they pull at each other. Because they pull at me, and because the travelling is starting to feel like running away.”

“That’s not what it is.”

Amy scoffed. “Oh, come on. Look at you, four days in a lounge and you go crazy!”

“I’m not running away,” the Doctor insisted. “But this is one corner of one country, in one continent on one planet that’s in a corner of a galaxy that’s in a corner of a universe that is forever growing and shrinking and creating and destroying and never remaining the same for a single millisecond. And there is so much, so _much_ to see, Amy. Because it goes so fast.”

The Doctor stared down at his hands. Even now, the sight of them had the tendency to surprise him. He kept expecting to see freckles and long, spindly fingers.

“I’m not running _from_ things,” the Doctor continued. “I’m running _to_ them, before they flare and fade forever.”

His eyes lifted to meet Amy’s, his shoulders slumped in sorrow. She looked stricken.

“And it’s alright,” he hurried to say. “Our lives won’t run the same. They can’t. One day, soon, maybe…you’ll stop. I’ve known for a while.”

Since the day he met little Amelia Pond with a crack in her wall. Anyone he met, they were ticking time bombs. It was always a gamble, a matter of distracting himself so he wouldn’t think about the day they inevitably left him, whether they chose to or not.

“Then why do you keep coming back for us?” Amy asked.

There were so many reasons. Mostly, of course, it was because he was selfish. Because he had no self-control. Because he was horribly lonely, and traveling with friends, seeing the universe through their excitement and wonder, it made him feel like he too was young again, joyful, able to enjoy the beauty the universe had to offer without thinking too hard about losing everyone and everything he loved, once again.

“Because you were the first,” he replied simply. “The first face this face saw. And you’re seared onto my hearts, Amelia Pond. You always will be.”

That was true, of course. But so was Donna, and Martha, and Rose, and Jack, and Ace, and Mel and Peri and Tegan and Nyssa and Adric and Sarah Jane and-

He was so tired. 

“I’m running to you,” the Doctor choked out, voice cracking, “and Rory, before you…fade from me.”

* * *

**_Akhaten_ **

They sped through space on the moped, but whatever had a hold on the little girl was just slightly faster than they were on the rental. The girl, still screaming, was sucked inside the temple, a door slamming shut behind her.

The moped kept speeding forwards. Frantically, the Doctor pumped the breaks, but nothing happened. Had he really given away Amy’s glasses for _this?_

“Brakes!” Rose shouted into his ear, arms wrapped around his chest. “Brakes!”

“I’m _trying!”_

The moped stuttered and stalled, and they fell, screaming, crashing into the ground below.

Rose’s fingernails dug into the Doctor’s chest like knives.

“Okay, time to let go.”

“I can’t.”

“Rose, you have to.”

“Why?”

“Because it really hurts!” groaned the Doctor.

“Sorry!” Rose exclaimed, staggering off the moped. “I’m sorry. Blimey, I thought regular motorcycles were a rough ride. That was horrible.”

“You’re telling me,” the Doctor muttered.

The two of them brushed the sand off their clothes and headed toward the door that the girl had disappeared into.

The Doctor scanned the entrance with his screwdriver and frowned at the results. “Oh, that’s interesting. A frequency modulated acoustic lock. The key changes ten million zillion squillion times a second.”

“Can you open it?” Rose asked. “With your spanner?”

The Doctor cringed. “Technically, no. In reality, also no, but still, let’s give it a stab.”

The Doctor ran up to the door, banging it with his shoulder.

“Ow!”

Despite the tension of the situation, Rose giggled. He turned back to her, pouting, and she raised her hands in apology.

“Sorry,” she said, grinning. “That _was_ kind of funny, though. Did you really think that would work?”

The Doctor stared at her, trying to imprint the image of her smile on his mind so he would never forget the sight.

“Worth a try.”

Faintly, they heard singing come from inside the temple. Not the girl- a man, this time.

_Do not wake from slumber. Old god, never wake from slumber…_

The Doctor pounded on the door with his fist this time before scanning it again, trying to find a weakness, any weakness at all, in the structure.

Rose had turned around, facing the way they came. “How can they just stand there and watch?”

The Doctor knew her question was rhetorical, but he answered anyway. “Because this is sacred ground.”

“And she’s a child,” Rose retorted.

“And he’s a god. Well,” the Doctor reconsidered, “he is to them, anyway.”

_Rest your weary, holy head and cast our lives asunder. Do not wake from slumber._

The ominous singing was _really_ not helping the Doctor concentrate.

Right on the other side of the door, the little girl started screaming her head off.

“Hold on!” Rose cried. “We’ll be there soon, we’re going to help you.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes,” the Doctor muttered.

The sonic beeped encouragingly. “Oh. Hello.”

“Hello what?” Rose asked.

“The so- the spanner’s locked on to the acoustic tumblers.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning,” the Doctor laughed, “I get to do this.”

The Doctor braced his feet on the ground, pushing at the door with the sonic, using all his strength. His feet skidded in the sand, but slowly, painstakingly, the door began to rise.

“Hello there,” the Doctor exclaimed, still holding the door open with one hand. “I’m the- I’m Rory, and this is Rose.”

“Woah!” The door almost slipped closed, but the Doctor caught it at the last second. “She was supposed to be having a nice day out. Still, it’s early yet.”

The little girl just stared at the both of them, frozen.

“Are you coming, then?” the Doctor prompted, a little harshly. “Did I mention that the door is immensely heavy?”

“Leave,” hissed the girl. “You’ll wake him!”

The Doctor groaned. “Really quite _extraordinarily_ heavy.”

The door buckled and groaned under the power the sonic was giving off. Quite against his will, the Doctor felt his legs giving out underneath him until he was kneeling in the sand, shaking hands still trying to prop open the door.

“Rose?” he managed.

Bless her, Rose understood instantly. She ducked under the door and strode into the temple, everything about her expression and posture exuding calm. How long had she been with Torchwood, at this point? She’d been hardened, turned more militaristic than she’d ever been.

“What’s your name, love?” Rose asked gently.

“I’m the Queen of Years,” muttered the little girl. “Merry. Merry Gejelh.”

“Merry,” Rose repeated, voice still soothing and low. “Merry, we need to leave.”

“No,” cried Merry, glancing over at the hooded chorister who was still singing ominously, the growling corpse in the glass case. “Go away!”

The sonic whined under the strain. The Doctor smacked it, jaw clenching in concentration.

“Not without you,” Rose responded firmly.

“I knew I was going to get it wrong,” exclaimed Merry, “and I did it anyway, but I got it wrong, just like I said I would! And now this has happened. Look what happened!”

“You didn’t get it wrong,” Rose soothed.

“How do you know? You don’t know anything! You have to go. Go now, or he’ll eat us all.”

Like a switch had been flipped, Rose ambled forward, a strange twist in her hips, her hands in her pockets.

“Well,” Rose began, “he’s not exactly a looker, I’ll give you that. But you know, to be honest, I don’t think he looks big enough.”

“Not our meat, our souls.”

Rose stiffened, glancing at the corpse with horror. Her mouth set in a determined line, she reached for Merry. The little girl put her hands to her temples and Rose was immediately stuck to the glass case, arms and legs pinned by a glowing purple field.

“He doesn’t want you,” Merry continued. “He wants me. If you don’t leave, he’ll eat you all up, too!”

“Yes,” interjected the Doctor, “and you don’t want that, do you? You want us to walk out of this _really quite astonishingly heavy door_ and never come back.”

“Yes,” whispered Merry, entirely unconvincingly.

“I see,” said the Doctor. “Right. Rose is right. Absolutely never going to happen.”

There was only one thing to be done, really.

Quick as a flash, the Doctor rolled out from underneath the door. Just as it was about to close, he snatched the sonic up from the floor, pocketing it.

Rose spoke up, voice stilted and tense. “Did you just lock us in with the soul-eating monster?”

The Doctor stood, straightening his bow tie. “Yep.”

“And is there actually a way to get out?”

“What, before it eats our souls?”

“Ideally, yeah,” Rose asked, her voice going high-pitched.

“Possibly. Probably. There usually seems to be.”

The chorister kneeling on the ground kept going. The monotone singing voice was doing absolute _wonders_ for the Doctor’s head.

_Old god, rest your weary, holy head…_

“Why’re you still singing?” Rose asked him, incredulous.

“He’s trying to sing the Old God back to sleep, but that’s not going to happen.”

The Doctor knelt beside the chorister, brushing his hair back out of his face.

“He’s waking up, mate,” the Doctor told him, voice gravelly, even to his own ears. “He’s coming, ready or not. You want to run.”

The man stopped singing, expression stricken.

“That’s it, then,” the Doctor said. “Song’s over.”

 _Your song is ending soon,_ said the Ood. _Every song must end._

Was it a sign of something, that the Doctor had managed to show up right when the million-year-old song had ended? Was someone trying to tell him that it was time for his song to end, too?

Was the Doctor himself just as irrelevant as this man’s singing, in the end?

“The song is over,” said the chorister. “My name is Chorister Rezh Baphix, and the Long Song ended with me.”

The man stood, shakily, and before the Doctor could say anything to stop him, he teleported away.

Behind them, the strange mummified figure began to roar.

“Aha!” said the Doctor. “Look at that.”

“You’ve woken him,” whimpered Merry.

“No, we didn’t wake him,” said the Doctor, moving toward Merry and steering her gently away from the monster intent on eating her soul for lunch. “And you didn’t wake him, either. He’s waking because it’s his time to wake, and feed. On you, apparently. On your stories.”

“Stories?” interjected Rose. “She said souls.”

“Same thing,” answered the Doctor. “The soul’s made of stories, not atoms. Everything that ever happened to us. People we love, people we lost."

The Doctor glanced sidelong at Rose, briefly. "People we found again against all odds."

He cleared his throat. "He threatens to wake, they offer him a pure soul. The soul of the Queen of Years.”

“You’re scaring her,” Rose murmured, in a hiss clearly meant only for the Doctor’s ears.

“Good. She should be scared. She’s sacrificing herself. She should know what that means. Do you know what it means, Merry?”

The little girl stared up at him with wide, terrified eyes. “A god chose me.”

“It’s not a god,” said the Doctor. “It’ll feed on your soul, but that doesn’t make it a god. It is a vampire, and you don’t need to feed yourself to it.”

Behind them, the mummy continued to roar, pounding on the glass in front of it. It seemed to be holding, and Rose was being an excellent sport about it, but the Doctor wanted to get her away from the soul-eating monster as quickly as possible, thanks.

Part of him wanted to grab Merry by the shoulders and demand she let Rose go, but that would never work. The Doctor needed to be patient. He needed to bond with this little girl, as quickly as possible, in order to get her to save herself.

“Hey,” the Doctor began, voice low and quiet, “do you mind if I tell you a story? One you might not have heard.”

He knelt down in front of Merry so she could look down at him. “All the elements in your body were forged many, many millions of years ago, in the heart of a faraway star that exploded and died. That explosion scattered those elements across the desolations of deep space. After so, so many millions of years, these elements came together to form new stars and new planets.”

The mummy kept on roaring, getting increasingly frustrated and angry. The Doctor refused to let himself break eye contact with the girl.

“And on and on it went,” he continued. “The elements came together and burst apart, forming shoes and ships and sealing wax, and cabbages and kings. Until eventually, they came together to make you. You are unique in the universe. There is only one Merry Gejelh. And there will never be another. Getting rid of that existence isn't a sacrifice- it is a waste.” 

Not strictly true, of course, but the Doctor was under a time limit, here. There were circumstances in which he could very much understand sacrificing yourself, especially to save others. But at this age? And for something as pitiful as a creature that wanted to feast on the innocent? Not today. Not on his watch.

“So if I don’t,” Merry began, hesitantly, “then everyone else…”

“Will be fine,” the Doctor answered.

“How?”

“There’s always a way.”

“You promise?”

The Doctor grinned, rising to his feet. “Cross my hearts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This episode in particular always stuck out to me- it's so apparent how eager the Doctor is to die, especially near the end. I really like exploring his internal thought processes, especially within the confines of canon.
> 
> What did you think of this chapter? Thank you so much for your amazing feedback so far, it makes me so happy <3 <3 <3


	4. Chapter 4

**_Darilium_ **

****

In the library, River had told him all about the Singing Towers. He didn’t have a choice but to go through with it, exactly as she’d told it to him, if he wanted the timelines to remain intact.

The Doctor sighed, running a hand through his hair. He was getting too old. He was facing things responsibly instead of procrastinating for centuries, like- like an _adult_. He shivered at the thought.

The Doctor checked his reflection before he stepped out of the TARDIS- shirt ironed, shoes tied, not a dark hair out of place. He tweaked his bow tie, just for the hell of it.

He practiced a grin, over and over again. After a few minutes, it started to look real.

* * *

“I want you to know,” River began, dress glittering in Darilium’s sunset, “that if this is the last night, I expect you to find a way ‘round it.”

She was glaring at him, eyes full of fire. The sonic screwdriver he’d gifted her was still clutched in her hands. The Doctor wondered, sometimes, if he had judged her unfairly. River did truly seem to have feelings for him. But how much of that was love, and how much of that was wanting to eat him alive?

“Not everything can be avoided,” he answered, unable to keep the stiffness out of his tone. “Not forever.”

“But you’re you!” River exclaimed. “There’s always a loophole.”

The Doctor turned, staring forward, concentrating on the singing towers in the distance.

_“Can’t you come through properly?” Rose had asked on that terrible beach, fiddling with her hair to try and distract him from the tears forming in her eyes._

_The Doctor had smiled, grimly. “The whole thing would fracture. Two universes would collapse.”_

_“So?”_

But that was the difference. Rose had given him a throwaway remark, one that she had immediately backed off on. Rose knew that some things were more important than either of them ever would be. At her core, Rose had never been selfish. Rose had the strength to do what was right, even- _especially_ when she knew it would break her heart.

River was strong, in her own way, and there was something to be admired in that strength. But she had grown up eagerly awaiting the day that she would meet the Doctor, knowing she would crush him under her heel. River had gotten a little less sociopathic since those early days, but there were some things you just couldn’t grow out of.

River didn’t care about others, not really. She ran around the universe committing crimes and hurting people, all for her own benefit. He couldn’t blame her for the life she had been pushed into living. But he couldn’t love her, either. Not when his hearts belonged so completely to someone long gone.

He turned to her, meeting her gaze head on. For the first time in the years they’d known each other, River looked surprised.

“You’re crying,” she whispered.

The Doctor wiped at his face, sniffing. “S’pose I am.”

“Why?”

His gaze dropped to his hands, braced on the railing in front of them. “Times end, River, because they have to. Because there’s no such thing as happily ever after. It’s just a lie we tell ourselves because the truth is so hard.”

“No, Doctor,” said River softly, “you’re wrong. Happily ever after doesn’t mean forever. It just means _time._ A little time.”

River tutted, her voice slanting toward condescension once again. “But that’s not the sort of thing you could ever understand, is it?”

The Doctor stood there, gently ignoring River’s expectant eyes gazing at his face. Eventually, she turned forward. The two of them stood there, listening to the song.

“Every night is the last night for something,” the Doctor said, after a lengthy, weighted moment. “And tonight is the last night for this. You’ve got things to do, River. And so do I. But not together. Not again.”

His jacket was open, fluttering in the wind. River reached over and grabbed him by the suspenders, pulling him toward her. He went willingly, out of exhaustion if nothing else.

Her mouth tasted like scotch and cigarettes. The Doctor closed his eyes and tried, unsuccessfully, to lose himself in it.

* * *

**_Akhaten_ **

****

Fearfully, Merry nodded. She placed her fingers on her temples, scrunched her face in concentration, and the purple forcefield restraining Rose flickered and disappeared.

Rose let out a sigh of relief, shooting a smile the Doctor’s way. The Doctor was frozen to the spot, tentatively smiling back.

The moment was ruined, of course, by the zombie skeleton man banging on the glass of his cage hard enough to force a spiderweb of cracks into existence.

Rose yelped. The Doctor shot forward, grabbing Rose’s arm and pulling her away from the glass wall. She pulled her arm out of his grip, a reprimand forming on her lips, when the entire room began to shudder and shake.

“Something’s coming,” murmured the Doctor.

“The Vigil,” whimpered Merry.

“And what’s the Vigil?” the Doctor asked, absentmindedly calculating the structural integrity of the temple around them in the case of an incoming seismic disruption.

“If the Queen of Years is unwilling to be feasted upon,” Merry explained, “it’s their job to feed her to Grandfather.”

Three figures appeared out of shadows in front of Grandfather, who was still pounding away at the glass, snarling.

The three of them started forward, seemingly gliding over the ground.

 _“Merry…”_ they hissed.

“I’m sorry,” cried Merry. “I’m sorry!”

“Don’t you dare,” exclaimed Rose. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, nothing at all. And they’re not going to lay a finger on you.”

“Yeah,” interjected the Doctor, filled with false bravado. “Stay back.”

The Vigil didn’t seem intimidated.

“I’m armed,” threatened the Doctor, brandishing his screwdriver in front of him. “Sort of.”

Before the Doctor could think of a new distraction, Rose had her gun braced in her arms. It let out a low whine as it powered up, fully loaded.

“Last chance,” she barked.

The Vigil continued forward.

Rose cocked the gun and fired, quickly, nailing each of the three with a laser bolt in the middle of their foreheads, dead center. They fell in a heap.

The Doctor turned on Rose, sneering. “I told you to put that _away_ , Rose Tyler.”

She cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, so you want me to let them murder a nine-year-old? Fat chance. You want to know where you can shove your moral standards?”

Behind them, the creature broke another hole in the glass wall.

The Doctor stood, jaw clenched, trying to balance his breathing. This, of course, was usually the point in the adventure when he boasted about his experience, his skill, all the things he’d done and all the worlds that held him in high regard. But he wasn’t the Doctor. Not today. He couldn’t do a thing.

The Doctor forced himself to turn away from Rose’s fiery gaze, his eyes settling instead on the small, frightened girl currently wringing her hands in dismay.

“You’re the Queen of Years,” the Doctor said quickly. “You know all the stories. You must know if there’s another way out.”

Merry nodded enthusiastically. This poor child. So desperate to please.

“There’s a tale,” said Merry. “A secret song. The Thief of the Temple and the Nimmer’s Door.”

“Excellent,” the Doctor said, flapping his hands about and clapping in the way he knew he did, compulsively, when he was nervous. “Brilliant. Fantastic. Can you sing it?”

Merry nodded.

Grandfather gave the glass one final _whack,_ and the entire wall shattered.

“Best do it quickly, now,” the Doctor said.

Merry sang a quick series of notes, and lo and behold, a stone door on the other side of the temple slid open.

The three of them ran out, back to the moped, the Doctor hastily closing the door behind them with the sonic.

The snarling inside the temple abruptly stopped. The Doctor narrowed his gaze. It couldn’t possibly be that easy.

As if he’d summoned it, a beam of light shot from the temple and into…

The Doctor swallowed nervously. He turned back to Merry and Rose. “I think I might’ve made a bit of a tactical boo-boo. More of a semantics mix-up, really.”

“What?” Rose asked.

“I thought the Old God was Grandfather, but it wasn’t. Grandfather was just the alarm clock.”

Rose took a short moment to process, but nodded in understanding. “So who’s the Old God?"

The ground rumbled again. The Doctor pointed over his shoulder, sheepish. The three of them turned toward the massive star, now undergoing some very worrying changes and fluctuations in color and power.

“It looks like it’s about to explode,” exclaimed Rose. “Oh god, if it’s a supernova, we’re exposed. Everyone’s going to die. We’ve got to get out of here.”

“I don’t think that’s what we need to be worried about, Rose. That’s no ordinary star.”

“He’ll eat us all,” said Merry. “He’ll spread across the system, consuming the Seven Worlds. And when there’s no more to eat, he’ll embark on a new odyssey among the stars.”

Rose turned to the Doctor, expression utterly determined and without fear. “Can we fight him?”

“Er…”

“You promised!” cried Merry.

The Doctor ran a hand over his face. “I did. I did promise.”

“It’s really big,” Rose interjected.

The Doctor shrugged. “I’ve seen bigger.”

“Really?”

“Are you joking? It’s massive.”

Rose nodded. “Right. We’ll do it together.”

The Doctor’s eyes all but bugged out of his head. “No, no no no no. You have somewhere important to be. A little less than an hour left on your hopper, right? You’ve got to get out of here. You’ve got someone to see again.”

“I don’t walk away.”

The Doctor sighed in exasperation, but couldn’t hide his smile, his genuine pride.

“No, you wouldn’t, would you,” he said quietly. “Rose Tyler. Of course you don’t. But when you’re holding onto something precious-“ and here he side-eyed the small, scared child still holding Rose’s hand “-you should run. You run and run as fast as you can and you don’t stop running until you are out from under the shadow. Now, off you pop. Take the moped. I’ll walk.”

Rose glared at him. “I’m not gonna leave you here with that thing!”

The Doctor smiled softly at her. “I have a plan.”

She looked at him suspiciously. “Do you, really?”

“Yes, I do,” he reassured. “Now go. I’ll see you there.”

He made as if to turn away, but she grabbed his hand.

“You promise?” she asked, her eyes wide and searching.

“Yes, Rose Tyler,” he croaked. “I promise that you will see me again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...but not that HE would see HER again.
> 
> Happy new year everyone! What did you think of this chapter and of the story so far? I really love any feedback you might give.
> 
> Next up: the infamous speech.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was having a hard time finding motivation to write but then A Thousand Years by Christina Perri came on shuffle and I couldn’t stop myself.

“Right. Big sun thing. Going to eat the universe.”

The Doctor smoothed his hands down his rumpled waistcoat.

“Any ideas?” the Doctor asked the emptiness in front of him, Rose and Merry long gone on the moped. “No, didn’t think so. Righty-ho, then.”

The Doctor started forward, head tilted in consideration as he regarded the beast in front of him.

How different were they, really? Akhaten lived off the stories of others. Without their emotions and experiences, without their love, it would crumble and disappear without a word. Stories were food for the soul. Literally, in this case.

Like it could hear the Doctor’s thoughts, the skin of the sun split into a wide grin.

“Okay, then,” murmured the Doctor. “That’s what I’ll do. I’ll tell you a story.”

And all of a sudden, the Doctor could hear the music again.

_Live. Wake up, wake up._

“Can you hear them?” the Doctor asked the massive star. “All these people who’ve lived in terror of you and your judgement? All these people whose ancestors devoted themselves, sacrificed themselves, to you?”

Merry’s voice echoed, strong, clear, and sure. The harmonies of the crowd supported her young voice, never faltering in their sound or in their hopes.

_Please, wake up._

The Doctor smiled, softly. “Can you hear them singing?”

_And let the cloak of life cling to your bones._

Had they changed the lyrics?

They had.

They weren’t singing to Akhaten anymore. They were singing to him.

It was beautiful, and painfully kind. A little ironic, too, if he was being honest. How strange was it that an entire world was singing to him about staying alive when he had come here for death?

“Oh, you like to think you’re a god,” began the Doctor, voice filled with scorn. “But you’re not a god. You’re just a parasite eaten out with jealousy and envy, and- and _longing_ for the lives of others. You feed on them- on the memory of love and loss and birth and death and joy and sorrow.”

The Doctor narrowed his gaze. “You think that you deserve their lives. That you’re so far above them that their only _conceivable_ purpose must be to serve you. But you’re not going to take them. Not anymore.”

A low, rumbling growl came from the giant sun, but it was still smiling.

The Doctor nodded. They understood each other.

“So come on, then,” he murmured. “From one monster to another. Take mine. Take my memories.”

The Doctor spread his arms, chin jutting out in challenge. “But I hope you’ve got a big appetite.”

“Because I have lived-“ the Doctor gasped in pain as Akhaten’s firey tendrils hit his chest. “-A long life, and I have seen a few things. I walked away from the last great Time War. I marked the passing of the Time Lords. I saw the birth of the universe and I watched as time ran out, moment by moment, until nothing remained.”

“No time,” the Doctor choked out, voice cracking. “No space. Just _me_. I walked in universes where the laws of physics were designed by a madman. I’ve watched universes freeze and creations burn. I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe.”

He was grasping at all his memories of everything he’d ever seen, every planet and creature and relationship and discovery.

Rose. Oh, Rose.

_“I made my choice a long time ago,” she said, hiding her fear incredibly well- to anyone who wasn’t him. “And I’m never gonna leave you.”_

“I have lost things,” he screamed, tears spilling from his eyes, “you will _never_ understand.”

Akhaten pulled at his soul, dissolving his life into acid with every passing moment.

“And I know things,” the Doctor added. “Secrets that must never be told- knowledge that must _never_ be spoken. Knowledge that will make parasite gods blaze.”

He straightened his bowtie. When it’s time for you to go, you do it with style.

“So come on, then!” he taunted, spreading his arms wide. “Take it! Take it all, baby! Have it! You have it _all!_ ”

The Doctor got to sport one last Cheshire grin before his vision went dark.

* * *

“Oh, God.”

Now _that_ was funny.

Was the universe really this cruel? Was he doomed to never be at peace, even in death? Was he to be plagued by half-remembered wisps of Rose for the rest of eternity?

“That was your plan, Doctor?” Rose accused. “Sacrifice yourself?”

The Doctor pried his eyes open. Right. Orangey ground. Every muscle and bone aching all to hell. Not dead, then.

Hold on.

She’d just called him Doctor, hadn’t she?

Despite himself, crumpled on the ground, the Doctor began to laugh.

Rose was no idiot. He was surprised it had taken her this long to figure out who he was, to be honest.

“Of course,” he replied. “Would’ve been a relief, to be honest. To have a rest. To sleep.”

He raised his head. Faintly, he realized there were still tears running down his face.

“Oh, _Doctor_ ,” Rose said, face contorted in something like horror. In that tone of her voice, his name sounded like broken glass. “How long have you been alone?”

The Doctor’s arms shook where they were holding him up. “When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions.”

Behind him, Akhaten roared. The Doctor screwed his eyes shut, trying to gather the strength to stand. He would not be defeated. He would beat this thing, and if he was very lucky, he might even die trying.

Stubborn, reckless, _unpredictable_ Rose- she stepped forward, shielding the Doctor from the star.

“The Doctor’s memories not enough for you?” she called out. “He’s seen a lot more than me, I’ll give you that. My life was nothing before I met the Doctor. Barely a story worth telling.”

The star rumbled its displeasure.

“But I’ve got something else for you.” challenged Rose. “Hey, listen! You want a good story. How about a story that never happened?”

The Doctor struggled to his feet with a muffled shout.

“What are you _doing?”_ he hissed.

“I was supposed to stay with the Doctor forever, uninterrupted,” continued Rose, ignoring him. “We would’ve traveled the universe for the rest of my life, and there’s no way to know the kinds of adventures we would’ve gone on. The people we might’ve met, or the lives we might’ve saved.”

Akhaten sent more tendrils Rose’s way, dozens more, but she seemed completely unmoved.

“You hear that?” Rose added. “That’s thousands, millions of possibilities, mate. A whole life that I never got to live.”

Of course.

Of course she would come up with a creative, ingenuitive way to beat this thing. Why, after all this time, was she still so _human?_

The Doctor straightened, standing upright. He dusted himself off, staring straight on at the star.

“Well come on, then,” he dared the parasite. “Eat up.”

The star frowned, pulsating.

“Are you full? I expect so, because there’s quite a difference, isn’t there, between what was and what should have been. There’s an awful lot of one, but there’s an infinity of the other.”

The face on the star began to flicker and fade, replaced by a blinding white light.

“And infinity’s too much,” muttered the Doctor, “even for your appetite.”

Just as Rose had predicted, the star exploded. But quietly, with barely an earthquake to show for it. A simple flash of light, and that monster that had terrorized people for millennia was simply gone.

That was that, then. Time to move on. Alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think of this chapter? All feedback makes me really happy :)
> 
> So there are definitely going to be at least two more chapters, don't worry! I've always loved this scene, but hated that we couldn't see inside the Doctor's head. There's so much going on here, even in the original version, that just goes untouched.


	6. Chapter 6

**_Summer 2006_ **

“Oh, I know!” the Doctor exclaimed, dashing around the TARDIS with his usual boundless energy, flicking switches and pressing buttons. “You’ll love this. The natives are three feet tall, bright purple, and their biggest treasure is a diamond the size of a minivan. You thought the Koh-i-Noor was expensive, but this is off the charts!”

The Doctor yanked his white sneaker off the console, bringing his foot to the ground and jogging to the far side of the controls in one smooth motion. He yanked the nearest monitor around so they could both see it, pulling up an image of a glittering green planet, surrounded by what looked like dozens of black moons.

The Doctor laughed, the sound filled with pure, childlike joy. “Oh, would you look at that.”

He threw his arm around Rose’s shoulders and pulled her close, leaning the two of them closer to the screen.

“You see those black spheres?” the Doctor asked, his lips brushing the side of her face.

“They’re moons, yeah?” she asked, a bit breathless.

“Nah, that would be dull!” he crowed, squeezing her shoulder. “They’re sentient beings who’ve lived for thousands of years. Don’t need to eat, don’t need to sleep. They sustain themselves off the excess gases released by the planet’s atmosphere. The natives have split themselves off into factions- some think they’re gods, some think they’re hostile invaders, and some think they’re just plain old rocks.”

“What are they really?” Rose asked.

The Doctor turned toward her, piercing brown eyes boring into hers, their faces mere centimeters apart.

“Dunno,” he breathed, grinning. “You want to find out?”

Rose swallowed reflexively. She didn’t even say anything- that was the thing. She just looked at him. But he must’ve seen something in her face, in her body language. The emotion behind his eyes disappeared, like he’d slammed a door shut. His smile was still there, but it looked fixed.

“Right,” he said, striding away. “Off we go, then.”

And then the TARDIS was shuddering and Rose was holding on for dear life and the moment was gone.

* * *

**_Akhaten_ **

The Doctor was here, standing right in front of her, and he refused to meet her eyes. She reached out for him, almost as a reflex. With a quick step and a flick of his coat, he was out of reach.

“Back to the mainland, I think,” he said, voice filled with cheer. To anyone else, it might not have seemed strained at all. “Nice seeing you. It’s almost time for you to leave.”

“Doctor.”

“Nice design on the, er, dimension cannon, by the way,” he said, gesturing widely at her bag. “Guess you’ve got a few more designs to go to before you hit the right one. You didn’t have that design when you saw me again. You need help setting the coordinates? Not that I haven’t had an absolutely _wonderful_ time, but I’d like to avoid ever doing this again in the future, if you don’t-“

_“Doctor!”_

The Doctor whirled around, getting right up in her face.

“What?” he snapped. Rose took an involuntary step backwards. His eyes were filled with a cruel rage, mouth curled in a sneer. “The stars are going out, right? The walls between dimensions are collapsing? Have you run into Donna with the great big insect on her back yet?”

Rose stared at him.

The Doctor laughed humorlessly. “It’s not me you need. It’s _your_ Doctor. Skinny. Hair like- like-“ he made a gesture with his hand above his head that was probably more reminiscent of a cockatoo, but it got the point across.

“Not to give you any spoilers,” he continued, wincing for some reason at the last word, “but you’ll find him again. Try Earth, early July, two-thousand eight. It was a Saturday. Love Saturdays. Great big temporal tipping points where anything is-”

Rose grabbed him by his lapels, yanking him forward and making him stumble. She pulled him down ‘til his shoulders hunched, bringing them nearly nose to nose.

“I’m not from two-thousand eight, you bloody idiot! I’m from twenty _twelve._ I’ve already lived through the Daleks, the twenty-seven planets, the bleeding clone of yourself you abandoned me with that died _six hours_ after you left me again!”

The Doctor stopped.

He stood there, limp, blinking rapidly.

“Well,” he croaked out, “how was I supposed to know that?”

“You could’ve asked me, you great bastard!” she yelled.

“How could you expect me to ask you anything, when the answer could’ve been the wrong one?!”

_There he is._

The Doctor realized it too, that his mask had dropped. His gaze dropped, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

No. She wasn’t letting him brush this off. Not this time.

The Doctor made to pull away, she tightened her grip on his tweed jacket, and somehow-

She could’ve pulled him down, he could’ve pulled her upward, but maybe they had just collided, inevitably, like two asteroids drifting in space until gravity brought them together into an unbreakable embrace. They were kissing, and kissing, and _kissing,_ and her hands had drifted upward to fist themselves in his hair and he was holding onto the sides of her face like he might die if he let go.

Rose broke it off first, breathing heavily.

“Oh,” the Doctor rasped out, taking a step back, fidgeting and fixing his clothes. “Yes. Well.”

“Don’t be an idiot about this,” she whispered. “Not anymore. We’ve been through too much, Doctor. You can’t run forever.”

The Doctor stiffened. “That’s what I’m best at, Rose Tyler. That’s what I’ve always done.”

“But isn’t it better to run with someone else? To…to have a hand to hold?”

The Doctor shot her a look. He looked almost _betrayed,_ like he thought she was trying to underhandedly manipulate him with memories into letting her stay.

The Doctor ran his hands up his face and through his hair. “Listen- come back with me to the TARDIS, I’ll take you home. Or- or wherever you want to go. Back to Pete’s World, or to start a new life in this dimension. Whatever you need, I’ll get it for you.”

She felt a stabbing pain in her chest, like he’d just stuck a tiny, sharp dagger into her heart.

“Don’t you want me to come?” she asked, voice small.

“I don’t do this,” he said firmly. “Not anymore. Never again.”

 _Oh, no._ Rose had known this would happen. He’d hardened himself again, walled himself off from all heartbreak and sorrow by running away from any love, any friendship, anything at all that mattered.

“You never answered my question, Doctor. How long has it been for you?”

The Doctor grimaced. “Almost three hundred years.”

Rose’s breath hitched. “Have- have you been alone this whole time?”

“No,” he answered, eyes on the ground, jaw working. “No, I had- I had friends. Really, really good friends. Gone now, of course.”

“You moved on,” Rose said. As she said it, Rose wasn’t sure if she meant _from me_ or _from your other friends,_ but he seemed to understand, either way.

His steady green eyes met hers, deadly serious. “Never.”

“Then why won’t you take me back?” she asked, shrinking into herself as she realized how petulant and whiny it sounded. “It’s just, I never thought I’d get here, Doctor. But I did. It _worked._ Can’t you let yourself be happy?”

His eyes bored into hers. And wasn’t that sick? Wasn’t it terrible that the moment when she saw him, _really_ recognized him, was when he was angry and depressed beyond belief?

“If you travel with me, you will die. Soon. Or you’ll leave, like you should, to have a _real_ life, a human life. The kind of life I can never live.”

But this Doctor, he was different from hers. He had tells. His fingers tapped against his trousers, his eyes darted around her face, and his lips pursed into a slight frown.

“You don’t even believe that,” she realized. “Do you?”

The Doctor’s eyes widened, flabbergasted. “What?”

“Sure,” she began, “I could die tomorrow, but so could you. Neither of us know what’s going to happen. Life is about moments, and you know that better than anyone. That’s why you keep bringing humans along with you. You _know_ that being happy for a little while is tons better than anything else. So why are you still using that as a talking point?

“Because it’s true?” he said, sounding more like he was asking himself.

Rose tilted her head in cool consideration. “You’re hiding. You think you don’t deserve to be happy, and you’re trying to pass it off as some kind of _‘concern for my wellbeing.’_ ”

The look in his eyes spoke volumes.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think, over these years. I’ve met a lot of people, heard a lot of stories. And I’ve realized a few things. I know what you’ve done, Doctor. I know all the mistakes you’ve made, and all the people you think you could’ve saved if you were just faster, or smarter, or luckier. I’m sure I don’t know everything, but I know quite a bit. And I forgive you.”

“You?” he snarled. “ _You_ forgive me? You think you’ve earned that right? You really think you’re important enough to just _do_ that?”

He was like a kitten. An injured, abandoned kitten hissing and showing its claws, convinced that it was the most intimidating beast of them all. And to the Daleks, maybe. But not to her. Then again, if the Daleks had ever seen the Doctor eat banana pancakes, she wondered if they would be quite so scared.

Rose knew he was expecting her to cry, to flinch away at his barbed words. But instead, partially just to get a reaction out of him, she smiled.

“You can’t scare me off, Doctor. I know you too well. I’m not going anywhere.”

The Doctor took a step back.

“You can’t be here,” he whispered. “You can’t really be here.”

Her smile widened. “It’s me. I’m here, Doctor.”

“You don’t understand,” he rasped, voice hoarse like he’d been screaming for hours. “I don’t get to…"

“What?”

“I don’t get to keep anyone.”

Rose forced her bravado up to the surface. “Well, tough. Because I’m keeping you. Forever, this time. I’m not going anywhere.”

Before she could blink, the Doctor’s arms were around her. He was shaking, almost violently. She hugged him back, just as fiercely.

A hitching breath in her ear made her jump. Was the Doctor…crying?

_Poor, wonderful, insufferable man._

He pulled back, wiping at his eyes, embarrassed.

“Don’t cry, Doctor,” she whispered. “Your eyes’re too nice to be all scrunched up and watery. Your eyebrows are going red, too.”

He jumped up, like she’d reminded him of something. He blinked rapidly, eyes wide as saucers.

“Eyes- oh, I didn’t- I forgot, they aren’t- I’m not- I’m him, of course, but I’m not- do you mind that I look like-“

“Don’t be daft,” said Rose, cupping his face in her hands. “I love _you_ , Doctor. I loved you when you looked twice my age, and I loved you when you were being a git, and I loved you when you were kind. I loved you when you were working on the TARDIS at three o’clock in the morning, and when you tried to get me to leave you behind, and even when you couldn’t tell me you loved me back.”

“I loved you from the moment I met you,” he blurted out.

For the first time today, Rose genuinely wondered if she was dreaming.

She swallowed down her shock and smiled, shakily.

“Let’s go back to the TARDIS. Have a cuppa. You can fill in all the gaps in the stories I’ve heard. Tell me about your adventures.”

When the Doctor just kept staring at her like she was about to evaporate, Rose started to fidget.

“I mean, if you want,” she added. “I just- I came all this way to see you again, I thought you would want me to-“

“Rose,” he interrupted. “There is no universe where I would not want you with me always.”

If he kept that up, Rose was going to melt right into her shoes.

“Oh,” she squeaked, succinctly.

The Doctor reached out, wiggling his fingers invitingly, and Rose’s heart ached, for a second, for the Doctor she’d never get to see again. But that didn’t last for long. She’d always love that Doctor, just as she’d always love her first. But they hadn’t gone anywhere. They were here, standing in front of her after so long, looking at her like she hung the very stars he loved above all else.

She laced her fingers through his, and his smiled widened.

They started walking toward the TARDIS, and the Doctor began his story.

“It all started when I crash-landed into a little girl’s garden…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of that. 
> 
> Thank you so much for all the wonderful feedback and support throughout this story! What did you think? Have you read the other work in this series? Do you think I should write more in this AU?
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


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